Grief
by CrazywithaComputer
Summary: When some things happen, the only thing you can do is grieve.


AN: Something bad has happened to me, so I might not be posting for a little while. Just wanted to let you know and post this to get it off of my chest.

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Bumblebee was shaken out of recharge by the sounds of sniffling. Alarmed, the yellow scout scanned the Witwicky residence to find the source; Sam, his charge, was curled up in a ball on his bed. He sniffled again and rubbed at his red eyes, taking a deep breath.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt? Do you need Ratchet?" Sam looks up to see Bumblebee's holoform looking at him with concern. Sam shakes his head.

"No, Bee, I don't need a doctor. Something just happened," he replies, voice hoarse from crying. Bee looks even more concerned as Sam stands up, staggering slightly, and pulls a jacket on over his clothes.

"Can we go for a drive," he asks hopefully, and Bee nods. A few minutes later they are driving through the neighborhood in broad daylight, the afternoon sun glaring down on the pair. Sam focuses on driving, and Bee takes the opportunity to scan his charge. Irregular breathing, leaking from the optics, and shaking hands are revealed, and Bee sees that he needs to keep a sharp optic on his charge.

Sam spends most of the day driving randomly around the town, not stopping for food at any time throughout the day. As the sun sets Sam finally turns Bee out of the town and into the country towards an empty field. Bee stops as they reach the spot where they had spent many hours talking and, once Sam gets out, transforms.

Sam pays him no attention and sits on the ground, knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them as though holding himself together. Bee sees that his is shaking slightly.

"What's wrong," he asks, using his real voice. Sam takes a deep, shuddering breath and explains.

"When I was in ninth grade, I had a teacher. Her name was Ms. Lindsey. She taught English and Language Arts, and she was the best teacher in the entire school."

Sam laughs shakily. "She wouldn't take crap from anybody; if you annoyed her she would 'go all Pine Tops' on you. Almost everyone got sent out of her room at some point."

Bee sits quietly and listens, watching his charge.

"She always wore this purple lipstick, and had this clapper thing that she used to get out attention. One time this kid broke her clapper, and she made him buy her a bell instead."

Sam continues to stare into the sunset. "She was the best teacher ever. It didn't matter who you were or where you came from or what you did, she would do her best to help you learn what you needed to know. No matter how many times I blew her off, no matter how much I hated her sometimes, and no matter how much I frustrated her and stressed her out, she was always there for me, willing to help me no matter what. Whenever I had an essay due, I would have her look it over and no matter how much she had on her plate she would take the time and read through it for mistakes. Without her I probably would have failed high school a long time ago."

Sam is somber now, and when he looks up at Bumblebee his eyes are red with restrained tears. "I got the call this morning. Ms. Lindsey passed away last night in her sleep."

Bee makes a comforting noise and holds his friend to his chest, right above his spark, as Sam finally breaks down and cries. Heart wrenching sobs split the air as the boy mourns for his lost teachers, almost overpowering the gentle crooning of his large friend as he holds him gently, comforting him the best he knows how.

As the sunlight fades from the sky and the moon begins to rise, Sam's sobbing slows and stops, leaving him worn out and tired in his friend's arms. Carefully, Bee transforms around the teenager, leaving him to rest in his back seat before driving back to the Witwicky house. Sam is asleep in the backseat by the time they arrive, and Bee does not disturb him.

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The next morning Sam wakes up, still sore but feeling as if a great weight has been lifted off of his chest. Glancing around, he sees that he's in Bumblebee and gets out carefully. He takes his phone out of his pocket as it vibrates.

_'Are you okay?'_ The text reads, the signature at the bottom telling that it's from Bumblebee. "Not quite yet," Sam replies, talking to the Camaro. "But I will be."

With a small smile the teen returns to the house, and Bumblebee sighs slightly. He had seen death during the war, but Sam was not nearly so hardened. He would need the support of his guardian in the days ahead, but, with time, he would recover. Sam's smile was proof of that. Bee scans the house once more and sees that Sam is on the phone. A quick hack reveals that he is talking to Mikaela, and Bee smiles inwardly. Mikaela would come, and Sam would talk to her, and everything would be okay. He was sure of it.

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**_Dedicated to Ms. Rachel Lindsey, the teacher who told me to never stop writing. Passed away December 7, 2012. Rest in Peace, Ms. Lindsey_**


End file.
